


Three Christmases

by AutumnFalls89



Series: Three Christmases [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27930007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnFalls89/pseuds/AutumnFalls89
Summary: Christmas Day 2020 looks very different from Christmas Day 1994. Take a peak into the Christmas history of Sunset Curve.
Relationships: Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie
Series: Three Christmases [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045155
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	1. Reggie

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I should be working on You're Everything That Feels Like Home, they Christmas plot bunnies got a hold of me.

Christmas Morning, 1985

Seven-year-old Reggie bounded down the stairs, slipping on the hardwood floor as he hit the bottom. His brown eyes widened at the large pile of gifts under the tree. Bright coloured boxes topped with bows sat piled haphazardly around the fragrant tree. He and his brother Matthew had picked it out. It was the biggest, thickest tree he could imagine! The top was a touch crooked and the star tilted precariously. But it was wider than his arms and taller than his brother and its sharp pine scent tickled his nose. It was covered in popcorn garland, freshly made last week, and so many ornaments that the whole tree shivered from the weight. Topping it was a bright star, covered in lights. 

He ran his hands over the bulbs on the tree. His picture glinted from the ornament he made in kindergarten, hung prominently at the front of the tree. He scurried across the carpet and sat beside the tree. His sparkling eyes read the tags – _Reggie, love Mom and Dad;_ _To Reggie From Santa_ ; _To Matthew, Love Mom & Dad._ His eyes roved between the presents and his stocking, stuffed full of goodies, a candy cane sticking out the top. He couldn’t take it anymore!

Scrambling to his feet, he ran up the stairs and slid into his brother’s room. With a wide grin, he jumped on the sleeping boy. “Wake up!” He shouted. “It’s Christmas!

“Gerroff,” muttered his brother, pulling the covers over his head. “It’s too early.”

“It’s six! Mom said I could wake everyone up at six!” Reggie prodded at his brother.

Matthew groaned and shoved Reggie off the bed. “Go wake Mom and Dad up then and leave me alone!”

Reggie hopped off the bed and scurried into his parents’ room, undeterred by his brother’s reaction. He pounced on his parents, his excited bouncing shaking them awake before he’d said a word. Ten minutes later, the whole family was sitting around the tree, stockings in hand. He watched his brother take out a new tape and a pen before impatience won. He dug into his stocking, pulling out a Star Wars pencil case, complete with a pencil and eraser. He grinned before digging back in to find three chocolate Santas. In what felt like seconds, his stocking was empty. His brother was already listening to his new tape as his dad jokingly complained about how the country twang wasn’t very Christmassy. Reggie looked from the smiling eyes of his dad to Matthew’s smiling face as he sang along to the music.

In the kitchen, his mother carefully poured hot chocolate into four mugs and began to serve the annual Christmas breakfast: bacon, eggs, and pancakes. His mouth watered at the sight; his small stomach growled in anticipation. As they ate breakfast, Reggie hummed his favourite old Christmas song, one his Granddad would sing every year. He would sing it tonight when he and Grandma visited. He was tone deaf, but to Reggie, it was the best song ever. _Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light…_

* * *

Christmas Day – 1993

Reggie sat in front of the Christmas tree, the popcorn garland sagging and yellowed with age. The tree was resting precariously against the worn fireplace, its star askew. The few presents were strewn across the living room, wrapping paper ripped and battered. Running a hand through his dark hair, he gently righted the tree; his calloused hands straightened the star. He crouched and read the name on the one battered box. _To Reggie, Love Mom._ He ran his fingers over the torn package before placing it under the tree once again. The next box rested under the tree still. He gently picked up the flattened present. _To Matthew, Love Mom._ Matthew hadn’t been home since the fighting began; he had packed up for university and stormed out one evening. But his mom didn’t give up hope that he would return. Reggie pried open the flattened cardboard to reveal a shattered CD, Garth Brookes’ _In Pieces._ Matthew had introduced Reggie to country music and to the guitar. Although that older brother was long gone, replaced by an angry replica of his father, Reggie still held onto his memories of his tough but gentle big brother.

As his mind drifted, Reggie picked up the two remaining presents – a once beautiful jewellery box that lay on the couch. The jewellery was long gone after the fight last night. His dad had thrown the box to the ground as he trampled Christmas under his feet. His mother had screamed and shouted, throwing the necklace – an expensive apology gift – out the door after his father. He carefully placed it under the tree behind the less damaged boxes. Finally, he placed the three empty stockings on the worn fireplace hooks before retreating to the kitchen to grab a broom.

He swept up most of the damage but couldn’t help himself and pick up the broken CD. “Matthew, what happened?” He whispered.

A sharp edge of the broken disk caught his finger, slicing it. He watched the blood trickle down his finger. ‘Red, like Christmas.’ He thought sourly as drop after drop hit the hardwood. With a shake of his head, he stood and shuffled through the empty house. The last three Christmases had been like this. There would be more fights the closer it got to the big day and sometime after Christmas Eve dinner the fighting would begin. His Dad would storm out and his mom would curl up in her room to drink. By the next day she too would be gone, and Reggie would be alone.

He bandaged his finger, grabbed his guitar, and returned downstairs. In the kitchen, he shoved dirty dishes aside to turn the kettle on. Christmas always required hot chocolate. He carefully carried his mug and guitar to the living room and sat again by the tree. Staring at the lights shimmering in the gloomy morning, he strummed his guitar and began to sing. “Have yourself, a merry little Christmas…”

* * *

Christmas Day – 1994

Reggie carefully placed the rough stone necklace in a box, pooling the chain on top. It was perfect! Reggie and Bobby had pooled their cash to buy it for Luke. They had seen him admiring it in the store window a month prior. It had taken most of their earnings from their last four shows to buy it. But it was worth it. His present to Alex was already carefully wrapped and sitting under their small tree.

Reggie stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth as her carefully folded wrapping paper around the box. This was their first band Christmas together and he hadn’t been this excited in years! Bobby had even found a small tabletop tree to place beside Luke’s couch. The band had spent an entire practice carefully decorating it with discarded decorations and garland stolen from Bobby’s family tree. A half-broken strand of lights wrapped around the door. Alex has found two half moldy stockings in the trash. They had cleaned them and placed them under the tree. Bobby had brought his out for Luke. Bobby was at his Grandparent’s place for the holidays.

It was simple but still the most beautiful sight Reggie could imagine. He placed the last piece of tape and carefully wrote out a label. _Luke, love Reggie & Bobby. _ He could hear Luke and Alex walking up the driveway. He hurried to the small kettle, one of the few possessions he’d stolen from his house, and carefully poured hot water into three cups.

Softly, he hummed _“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…”_ as the two boys walked in the door. Luke put an arm around him and grabbed his mug. Alex snagged the other mug and sung along with Reggie, _“Faithful friends, who are near to us, will be dear to us…”_


	2. Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Alex's three Christmases. What more is there to say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two: Alex is here! 
> 
> Songs listened to: Various Christmas songs by Trans Siberian Orchestra.

Christmas morning, 1985

Alex padded out of his room towards the living room trailed by a towheaded toddler. His eyes lit up as they took in the pile of presents under the tree. The tree brushed the ceiling, its golden star twinkling in the moonlight. Large golden and red bulbs glistened, and garland shimmered as it circled the tree. Here and there, a personalized ornament hung, overshadowed by the matching bulbs and garland. To Alex, it was magic! Every branch, every decoration was hung perfectly. Even the presents were expertly wrapped. It looked like a Christmas catalogue. He slowed before the tree, not wanting to disrupt its perfection. He held out his hand for Cameron.

“Just look.” He whispered. “It’s magical!”

Cam’s blue eyes were wide, reflecting the sparkling lights. He raised his hand to touch a low hanging bulb, but Alex pushed it away. “Be gentle,” He cautioned, lifting the bulb from the tree and placing it in Cam’s hands. “Don’t tell Mommy.”

Cam nodded and gazed into the bulb. He cradled it in his hands gently as if it were a baby bird. Alex sat next to the tree and pulled Cam down next to him. He pointed to the nearest stocking. “See? This is yours.” Alex removed the bulb and placed the stocking in Cam’s hands. He fisted his pudgy fingers over the soft material. Alex picked up his own stocking, running his hands over the carefully embroidered name at the top _Alexander._ He loved the early morning magic of Christmas when the lights sparkled, and all was still and quiet.

As he tidily unwrapped each gift, he bounced his feet in silent excitement. He unwrapped not one but two Hot Wheels! He also had a new pack of baseball cards that he had wanted and more chocolate than he ever saw at any other time. All too soon, his stocking was empty. He picked up the discarded wrapping paper and bows. His mommy would be so proud of him for cleaning up before guests came. She told him over and over that a tidy house showed others that you were good. As if his thoughts summoned her, she appeared beside him, her red nightgown shinning in the dim light.

“Thank you, Alex.” She said. “Daddy will be down in a minute and then we’ll open presents. We have to hurry though. Grandma and Grandpa and Aunty Melinda will be here at noon. We want everything cleaned up for when they come, alright?”

Alex nodded and latched on to her hand. He loved his mom. He wanted nothing more than to make her smile like she did now. He knew in his heart that she loved him just as he was.

* * *

Christmas morning, 1993

Alex awoke to giggling. He cracked open his eyes to see two sets of blue eyes staring at him.

“He’s awake!” The younger one giggled.

Alex blinked again and the shapes came into focus. One was short with baby-fine blonde hair in a halo around her head. She was clothed in pink footed pajamas which shook as she bounced in excitement. Her companion held himself still with all the force of his eight-year-old will. His hair was a shade darker, nearly the same shade as Alex’s. They stared back at him for a moment before grabbing his hands and tugging at him.

“Come on, Alex!” Jennifer urged. “It’s Christmas!”

He sat up. “Are Mom and Dad up yet?”

His brother shook his head. _Good,_ he thought. _A few moments of peace._

“Okay,” his whispered. “Let’s go but keep it down. We don’t want to wake them.”

He trailed them as they bounded down the hall towards the living room. As the glistening tree and its spread of gifts came into view, the two youngsters sped up. His brother let out a gasp and giggled, running forward. Alex caught him as he stumbled.   
“Careful, little man.” He cautioned.

Alex dropped to his knees by the tree beside his siblings. They looked at him with wide, expectant eyes. He carefully picked up a stocking brimming with gifts. “Here Cam”. Next, he grabbed the pink stocking and placed it in Jennifer’s outstretched hands. He paused dramatically before giving them a grin. “And go!”

“But what about your stocking?”

Alex glanced at the remaining stocking, lying flat against the floor. Its sad state a reminder of his parent’s antagonism. “I promised my friends that I’d open it with them.”

Jennifer nodded, her attention on her stocking. She was carefully peeling the paper off of what looked like a new sticker book.

“Do you like them?” His brother asked, not looking up from his own stocking.

Alex paused. Not like his parents? He didn’t know. They were his parents, despite all the problems they had. They were his family. “Mom and Dad?” He asked finally.

“No.” His brother shook his head. “Your friends.”

“Of course, I do. They’re my friends.”

“That’s not what mom says.”

“What do you mean?” He stammered, his throat tightening and his cheeks turning red.

“She calls them your special friends _._ ” He emphasized the last words and wrinkled his small face. “She says you’re sick; that’s why you think you like them.” 

Alex stared, his face going white. His hands trembled and he hid them in his pockets. His eyes dropped to the ground, darting across the carpet, hoping to find answers. He licked his lips a couple times before opening his mouth. “They’re my bandmates, Cam. They’re like family to me.”

Jennifer lifted her head from her stocking. “We’re your family.”

He sighed before sliding over to wrap his arm around her. “You are my family. No one can replace you. But these guys are like family too. They’re my best friends. Like Emily and Melissa are yours.” He returned his gaze to Cameron. He wasn’t ready for this conversation. Finally, he reached out and snagged a chocolate Santa from his brother’s stocking.

“Hey!” His brother shouted grabbing for it. Alex smiled and held it above his brother’s head. Cameron lunged forward, knocking Alex to the floor. He laughed as his sister joined the fray, jumping on his stomach as Cam grabbed at his hands. Alex let Jennifer and Cam pin him down and snatch the chocolate from his hands. He laughed as he sat up again, only to notice two sets of feet in front of them. He looked up, seeing his parents looking down at him.

“Alex!” His mother hissed. “What are you doing? Don’t _wrestle_ with them. It’s just not right.”

He felt a flare of anger in the pit of his stomach. “It’s fine, Mom. They’re just kids. It was nothing _inappropriate._ ” He choked on the last word, sickened at the thought.

“All children wrestle.” He dad offered. “I know my brothers and I wrestled.”

“That’s different.” She spluttered. “They weren’t…they weren’t…” She trailed off unwilling to say it. “Don’t do it again, Alex.”

He hung his head and sighed, “Yes, Ma’am.”

He heaved himself up off the floor and headed back towards his room. Christmas morning would be more enjoyable for everyone if he was gone. As he flopped down on his bed, he resolved to not spend another Christmas like this one. All he wanted was to be loved for who he was. Was that too much to ask?

* * *

Christmas Morning, 1994

Alex slipped quietly out the back door. He wished he could see their faces as they opened their gifts. He knew Cameron would love the old Hot Wheels. Alex had coveted them as a child. Now, he hoped they would be just as treasured by Cam. And he prayed that his sister would treasure her new beanie baby. He hoped she would think of him as she hugged it every night. Wiping his eyes, he continued down the street towards Bobby’s studio. His feet shuffled along the sidewalk, sending stones flying in front of him.

A hand clapped his shoulder, making him jump. “Hey.” Luke’s face appeared in his vision; an orange toque was shoved over his shaggy hair. They ignored each other’s red and puffy eyes.

“I’ve got breakfast.” He held up a greasy brown bag.

“Cool.” Alex bobbed his head, forcing a slight smile onto his face. They continued on in silence for a block or two. Finally, Alex broke the silence.

“Is Reggie up yet?”

Luke nodded, “Yeah. He woke up shortly after you left. I left a couple hours ago to…” he paused, looking a bit guilty. “To go for a walk and get some food stuff. He’s probably still wrapping gifts. I saw him sneak something out of the loft as I was leaving.”

Alex snorted. “Subtle, he is not.”

“Nope.” Luke popped the ‘p’ and broke into a brighter grin. “But he’s great on bass.”

As they entered the driveway, they heard humming coming from inside the studio - Reggie. Alex snagged a mug and Luke put his arm around their band-mate. Their finished the song in harmony then collapsed on the couch to split their holiday feast. Luke reached into the soggy bag to pull out three hamburgers and passed them around along with a wad of napkins. The boys dug in, ignoring the grease that coated their fingers, mouths, and clothing. Finally, they wiped their hands on the napkins before shoving them back in the bag.

“So good.” Luke rubbed his stomach.

“So greasy.” Reggie added taking another napkin.

“So perfect.” Alex finished, sipping the last of his hot chocolate.

They looked at each other in contentment. “Well,” Reggie broke in. “It’s time!”

He reached over Luke to grab two presents off the end table, passing one to each boy. Luke pulled a present out from under the couch and handed it to Reggie. “Merry Christmas, boys.”

“Merry Christmas.” They chorused.

Alex ripped the paper off to find a small box. Inside he found three identical patches: three rainbow flags. For the second time that morning, his eyes filled, and he bit his tongue to keep from crying.

“We figured you could put one on your jacket.” Luke broke in, pointedly ignoring the imminent tears.

Alex nodded, swallowing hard.

Reggie reached over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Time to own your awesomeness, Alex.”

Alex looked down at the patch in his hands and smiled. He was a gay 17-year-old drummer in an amazing band; 1995 would be the year he would own it.


	3. Luke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke's three Christmases over the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with Luke's portion a lot more than I thought I would. I hope I did it justice in the end. 
> 
> Songs listened to: Lost Christmas Eve and The Ornament by Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Christmas Morning, 1985

A small boy knelt on the tan couch, staring fixedly out the window. Behind him, a fire flickered cheerfully in a hearth surrounded by garland. The tree lights winked on a tall artificial tree beside the fireplace. Two figures sat on the matching loveseat, talking softly. Under the tree, a small pile of presents lay untouched. The boy thumped his feet against the cushions and glanced at the gifts longingly. He sighed once more and put his chin on the couch back, its tough fabric scratching his chin. Outside, the lights still glowed against the dawn light. It was magical but the boy only had eyes for the street. Christmas wouldn’t be complete until the whole family was there. Finally, a red car turned into their long driveway. A figure emerged from the car carrying gifts in one hand and a guitar thrown over his shoulder. The boy jumped up from the couch and bounded towards the door. He threw it open in anticipation as the man walked inside.

“Uncle Charlie!” Luke ran towards the tall, dark-haired man. The man put down his guitar case and caught the boy in his arms.

“Luke, my boy!” He ruffled the boy’s blond hair with a hand. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’. Mom said we couldn’t open anything until you got here.” He pouted.

“Well then,” his uncle smiled. “Let’s not keep you waiting any longer. And how about I tell you all about my latest tour after.”

“Are you a rock star?”

Uncle Charlie grinned. “Sure am! All the girls are coming after now.”

“Girls?” Luke wrinkled his nose. “Ew! Why’d you want girls? They’re gross!” 

He chuckled as he put Luke down and then moved to embrace Emily and Mitch. Luke tore off to the living room then flopped down in front of the tree and looked up at the adults with pleading eyes.

“Go ahead.” His mother said, smiling. “Just make sure to pass out a few to us too.”

Luke nodded, pulling out a small, square package and handing it to his parents. He tore into a large package, ignoring his parents. He threw the paper aside to reveal a soccer ball. He had just started playing after school and he really needed the practice. He murmured a thanks before delving into the next gift. Soon, only one was left, the small box that his Uncle had brought. He opened it to find a shimmering ornament shaped like a guitar. It hung on shiny gold string and its surface seemed to catch the colours of the rainbow. His brown eyes widened, and he looked back at his uncle.

“Thanks.” He whispered.

“You’re welcome, Kiddo.” He gave Luke a brief hug before grabbing his guitar. He looked at his sister and brother-in-law. “What do you say to a few Christmas carols?”

* * *

Christmas 1990

Luke sat in silence beside the tall Christmas tree. Its branches glistened with tinsel; lights sparkled from within the branches. But Luke’s eyes were focussed on a small ornament hanging at the side of the tree- a small resin guitar. It spun on a thin gold thread, reflecting the coloured lights in its glossy white surface. It had been three years since Uncle Charlie had died, his life cut short by a tragic accident. Luke had been nine then and his memories of his Uncle had faded. But he remembered his stories of playing in front of thousands of screaming fans. He remembered how close he felt to his parents and Uncle as they sang Christmas songs by the fire. Most of all, he remembered the first time he felt a burning desire to share that connection with people, to share music with people.

After a moment, he shook his head and wiped at his dry eyes. Luke then heaved himself to his feet and walked to the kitchen. His parents would be up by now and it was well past time for the usual Christmas festivities. He paused, soft, angry voices coming from his parents’ bedroom.   
“We can’t give it to him.” His mother whispered fiercely.

Then his Dad’s voice. “Charlie would have wanted us to. You know how much music meant to him. And to Luke. And we promised that we would get him a guitar if he kept his grades up this year.”

“The last thing I want is for him to end up like Charlie. You know the kind of things rock bands get into these days.”

His father’s voice turned soothing. “He doesn’t know any better, hon. Besides, maybe it will bring us all some happiness this Christmas.”

Luke backed up quietly and leaned against the wall. His thoughts swirled rapidly. He was getting a guitar. He was finally getting a guitar. But what was that about Uncle Charlie? Why shouldn’t he be like Uncle Charlie? He was a wicked musician and successful too! Didn’t his parents want that for him? He had always loved music and had scribbled down lyrics in private since he was a kid. Writing them was how he got his feelings out, how he understood the world, and one day, how the world would understand him. What was so bad about that?

But a guitar. An actual guitar! He couldn’t wait to try it out! And hadn’t his new friend Reggie been talking about forming a band? This was just too perfect! His face lit up again as he imagined it. He would be the lead singer, of course. Reggie would learn the drums, maybe. Or they could both play guitar. And they would rock!

Footsteps came nearer and he jumped up from the wall and hurried back into the kitchen. The last thing he wanted was his parents finding him eavesdropping! He hastily poured himself a cup of juice and turned on the coffee pot. As they entered, he looked up and smiled. “Morning.”

“Morning honey.” His mom said, grabbing a mug.

His father appeared, looking a touch worn. “Merry Christmas, you two.”

Luke bounced on his heels, anxious to open his guitar – and other gifts. But his parents stood sipping their coffee as if it wasn’t Christmas at all. He tapped his food and licked his lips as he waited. He almost spilt his juice with his small but frenetic movements. After an eternity, his parents made their way the living room. Luke stifled his impatient to further knee bounces as each person took turns opening a gift, starting with their stocking and moving up in size until the big gifts arrived.

Luke practically vibrated when a large, suspiciously guitar shaped present was finally handed to him. Mitch and Emily exchanged looks, hers worried, his soothing. Luke was oblivious as he reverently placed the package in front of him and carefully peeled back the wrapping paper. Inside was a dark canvas case. He ran his fingers over the material, then popped open the latches. Inside sat a glossy brown guitar. The darkened maple twinkled in the fire and tree lights. He softly touched its surface, twanging the strings. They sang, in his mind they were clear tones of freedom.

“Thank you.” He whispered, not taking his eyes off the instrument.

“You’re welcome, son.” Mitch smiled. “It comes with 5 free guitar lessons.”

Luke nodded his head bent over the instrument. He plucked the strings again, creating a simple tune. Mitch rubbed Emily’s back soothingly. She looked at her son’s enraptured smile and couldn’t help but smile herself. Luke had found love; Luke had found music.

* * *

Christmas, 1994

Luke hovered behind a bush, peering into the large window. Inside, a tree stood on the far side of the fireplace. All was dark yet, but he could make out the glint of presents under the tree. Three stockings still hung above the fireplace. He could see that all were filled, and his heart clenched. He could picture his parents taking turns opening presents and singing Christmas songs. It would just take four steps and he would be at the door. He knew it would be open. He took a step then paused as his eyes caught on his blue hoody still hanging casually from the back of a chair where he’d left it weeks earlier. He pulled himself back into the trees as he remembered the argument. His midterm report card had come in and it didn’t look good. With Sunset Curve’s recent success, school had been even less of a priority than before.

_“You need to focus more on schoolwork, Luke. It’s time to think about your future, about college.” His dad’s eyes looked concerned behind his glasses._

_“I don’t need college. I’m a musician!” He retorted. “I don’t need anything else.”_

_“Of course you do.” His father answered with forced calm. “Even if you’re successful, you’ll need a backup plan.”_

_Luke just rolled his eyes._

It got worse later in the day when he mentioned the gig the band had just days before Christmas. That time, his father hadn’t been home to temper their argument.

_“Luke!” His mother cried. “You can’t. We have our family Christmas dinner that night. Your Grandma will be there, and you know she’s not well. It’s important that you see her while you still can.”_

_“But this is important too! This is our chance to make it big!”_

_“So, family doesn’t matter to you now?”_

_Luke snorted, “They would be if they really cared about me.”_

_“I do care about you!”_

_“Yeah, right.” He muttered._

_Emily threw up her hands in disgust. “The only thing you care about these days is yourself. You and your stupid band. Not school, not your family, not your future.”_

_“Music is my future! We’re one show away from making it big. Why don’t you understand!” Luke paced in frustration. “Music is my life!”_

_“You’re just another teenager in a punk band, Luke. Don’t delude yourself.” Her voice was thick with tears and anger. “You’ll never make a living that way.”_

_“Uncle Charlie did. And you never had a problem with him. Is it just me? You don’t like who I am, do you? You never even wanted me to get a guitar or join a band. Why can’t you just accept that this is who I am. Accept it.” He was shouting now. “And I AM going to play on the 23 rd. I’m almost 18 now. You can’t stop me.”_

_“Luke.” She reached out a hand to him. “Charlie…”_

_“He what?” Luke snarled. “He died doing what he loved and I’m not letting you take what I love away from me.”_

_“He died alone behind a dumpster. Is that what you want to happen to you?” Emily’s voice was shrill. “He died from the drugs he loved, from the life he lived. Every time you play that guitar, I see him in that alley. I see YOU in that alley. Charlie wasn’t a hero. He was a liar and a damn addict. He was never famous. He didn’t own a fancy car or home. He didn’t even have a home!”_

_Luke stared at her his brown eyes wide. She clapped her hands over her mouth in shock, regret in her eyes. He turned and ran. She yelled something that he didn’t’ hear. As he hopped on his bike, he shouted words of hate over his shoulder._

Luke could still hear those words ringing in his head. He took one last look at the tree in the growing light. He saw the old guitar ornament twinkling. His hand started to reach for it when he saw movement inside the window. Heart pounding, he ducked deeper behind the bush. He saw his mom walk to the window, her hair in disarray. His father joined her, putting a hand on her shoulder. In her hands she clutched a picture frame.

‘Mom,’ Luke mouthed. He watched them for a moment, trying to memorize their faces one more time. But he didn’t want to remember them this way with sadness carved into their faces. With a sigh, he walked away from his former home. His mind kept replaying their last argument, over and over.

**

Luke tugged his toque further over his head as if it would block out the memories – all the fights played over and over in his head. It ended with her revelation: _Uncle Charlie died_ _alone behind a dumpster._ It echoed again and again and again. _Behind a dumpster._ Now all he could picture was the dark-haired man sprawled in a dark, dingy alley. He shook his head to clear it before walking into the local cheap burger joint. He grabbed as many burgers as he could afford – it was Christmas, after all. With the greasy bag in hand, he shuffled back onto the street. The garage was only a couple blocks away; he needed to shake his thoughts before he arrived.

As he stumbled along the side streets leading to the studio, he caught side of a familiar pink hoody and jean jacket. He gave his head one last shake to dislodge the memories and hurried to join Alex. His friend looked as rough as Luke did. They spoke only a few words to each other as they walked to the garage.

They entered to Reggie’s humming. He was always singing or humming Christmas songs. Luke smiled as Alex joined in. Maybe this Christmas wouldn’t be that awful. His smile grew as he watched Alex open his gift. The blonde’s face was tight as he held in tears and it wasn’t long before Reggie had pulled the two of them into a tight hug. Luke released the boys and picked up his own gift to give Alex a break. He probably needed a minute or two to compose himself. He ripped the paper off of a small box and tossed it to the floor. He opened the box to find a rough grey and white stone. It hung from a thick silver chain. He ran his hands over its cool surface, then looked up. “Thanks boys.”

“Thank Bobby and Reggie.” Alex responded.

Luke tipped his hand to an imaginary Bobby and patted Reggie’s shoulder and put it around his neck. It dangled halfway down his chest. Alex shoved a second gift into Luke’s hands. “Don’t swallow these ones.” He said, deadpan.

Reggie snickered as Luke flushed. “That was once!” He waved his hands in the air for emphasis. “And it only happened because Bobby surprised me.”

As he spoke, he pulled the box open to reveal three new guitar picks. They were blue and white, matching his guitar. Unlike his old picks, these ones lacked teeth marks.

Alex gave a smile. “Remember how they gave him the old pick?”

“Yeah, they even cleaned off all of his juices. It must have been pretty gnarly after going all the way through him.”

Luke and Alex grimaced. “Hey! It did NOT go all the way through me. They pulled it out of my stomach.”

Reggie shrugged. “Close enough.

The lead singer rolled his eyes and gave Reggie a shove. “Open your gift, you goof!”

Reggie shoved him back and picked up the box. He carefully peeled back the paper on one corner before abandoning all pretenses and ripping the rest off. A cardboard box sat amidst the torn paper. He rummaged around in his pockets for his pocketknife to cut the tape holding it shut. Luke pushed one into his hands. He carefully slit the tape and opened the box. A plaid shirt lay in the box, its red and black lumberjack colours vibrant and the flannel soft. He grinned and threw it over his shoulders. They looked at each other in companionable silence. Luke forced his last fleeting thought for his family from his mind and put his arms on the boys’ shoulders. No matter what his parents thought, he had the boys and he had music. That was enough.

“So,” He grinned at Reggie an Alex. “How about some rocked up Christmas carols?”


	4. Julie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in 2020 was different but that didn't mean it was bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if I'd write an epilogue chapter. It's a bit late for Christmas but here it is. Happy New Ye

December 2020

As December drew near, the boys became quieter. Reggie had smiled less and disappeared more often. Luke’s smile didn’t always reach his eyes and she’d catch him staring into space. Alex just sat in the loft with a distant expression. Luke had run away near Christmas, but she didn’t know about the others. And she didn’t want to intrude on their private memories.

Christmas was hard for her too. This was the first Christmas after her mother had died and it made her chest ache to think about their last Christmas together. She had loved the music that had filled the house, her Dad’s ever growing Christmas decorations, and antique the Beléns that spread across the whole table. She loved the wonderful food and the joy she felt as she sung carols with her family. She missed her dad’s soft tenor, her mom’s clear alto, and even Carlos’s rap interludes. She missed her mom. While her dad was the embodiment of Christmas spirit her Mom was the heart of the celebration. She had caught her dad staring at the boxes of Christmas decorations, but none had appeared on December 1st, like usual.

“It’s so sad.” She’d sad at school a few days earlier. “The boys are so quiet, even Reggie. They try to hide it, but it’s totally obvious.”

“It is their first Christmas as ghosts.” Flynn had said. “And it’s not like you have been a bundle of joy the last couple weeks.”

Julie had sighed. “I know. I just can’t get into the Christmas spirit this year.”

“Well,” Flynn had put an arm around her. “We’ll just have to bring the Christmas spirit to you and your boys. I think this calls for a Christmas intervention. I’ll call my mom and we’ll load up on decorations.”

So, a few days later when the boys were gone, they had tackled the studio. Flynn blasted Christmas music as they got to work. Garland twined with lights was strung along the rafters, dangling around the loft. Red bows were placed between strands around the door and the stairs. They placed a small tree on the table by the couch. It was lit with colour changing lights and topped by a small wooden star. They hung the tiny bulbs and ornaments on it with care. Julie began to smile as they cut out and hung nearly 50 snowflakes. It was starting to feel a little like Christmas. Finally, they placed three small stockings by the tree before sneaking out.

An hour later, the boys poofed into a changed studio. They stared with wide eyes at the festive atmosphere. Finally, Reggie broke the silent. “Look.” He said, “Stockings!”

Alex and Luke walked over and saw that the stockings were embroidered with three letters A, L, and R. Alex picked up his stocking and noticed a small rainbow pin in one corner. It was then that he smiled. Luke gazed around at the lights solemnly. His eyes glistened suspiciously. He surreptitiously wiped them before smiling. “Soak it in boys. It’s Christmas.”

Two days later, Ray was in the studio. He had come to ask Reggie his opinion on his latest commission. Ever since he had found out about the phantoms, their relationship had become two sided. Reggie would often sit next to him and use a pen to point at his favourite pictures. Or, once he had mastered being visible, they would spend time together talking until Reggie grew too tired and disappeared. So, when he entered the studio, he wasn’t expecting anything but plants – and hopefully a plaid-clad boy.

He stopped in his tracks, mouth open.

“Julie did it.” Reggie grinned before remembering that Ray couldn’t see him. He frowned in concentration and popped into existence on the couch.

“Julie did it.” He repeated. “Flynn helped.”

“It looks amazing.” Ray put his hands in his pockets. “Makes me want to decorate the house.”

“It does. I love Christmas decorations. I used to have the best tree before…when I was a kid.” He trailed off. “Julie’s tree is a close second.”

Ray noticed the shadow across the boy’s face and felt his protective instincts stirring. “You boys will be joining us, of course. I know Carlos would love to have you help decorate. Tia will be here Christmas morning but I’m sure we can work out something.”

“We’ll be fine out here on Christmas. We have the awesome tree and decorations.” Reggie’s grin grew again.

“How about tomorrow night?” Ray turned to leave.

Reggie nodded, then frowned. “Wait. Why did you come out here?”

“Oh.” Ray sighed. “I’ve got an impossible client and I was hoping to get your opinion on a photo.”

With another smile, Reggie poofed to the house.

* * *

Late the next morning, Carlos yawned and trundled down the stairs. As his foot hit the bottom step, he stopped. A box floated in front of his face, bobbing with invisible steps. It was followed by a Christmas tree box held on one end by his father. The other end floated about his dad’s chest height. Julie came after, holding a box with prominent sharpie proclaiming _ornaments_.

She paused as she saw Carlos. “The boys are helping us decorate.” She listened for a moment. “They say good morning.”

Carlos rubbed his eyes and yawned again. “Morning.”

Julie shifted the box and looked towards the living room. “We’ll meet you out there. I think dad left the toast and jam out.”

A few minutes later, toast in hand, Carlos was in the living room. Carlos munched on his toast as he watched the tree being set up by itself. Ray was seated on the ground, a tangled knot of lights in his lap. Julie was riffling through box of decorations, hunting for the star.

“We used to have a real tree.” She replied to a comment Carlos couldn’t hear. “Until one year when we had bugs.”

Carlos chewed fast to swallow his toast. “Yeah. It was so gross! These bugs kept were coming out of the tree and crawling all over the floor. Every time you put your food down, you stepped on one like SPLAT.”

“Gnarly.” Luke commented.

“Cool.” Reggie added.

Alex just looked disgusted.

Julie gave her brother a look. “There weren’t _that_ many. You were too young to remember anyhow.”

“I do too remember!” 

Ray looked up from the lights. “I’m sure you do, bud. You ate at least one of them. After that, your mom made me take it outside. We bought a fake tree the next day.”

“We always had a fake tree.” Alex commented, separating the individual branches on the tree with precision. “It looked really good, though. It was really thick and had lots of lights and bulbs. It looked like it was from a magazine.”

“Your whole house looked like it was from a magazine, dude.” Luke retorted. “It was kind of creepy.”

“You’re creepy.” Alex shot back.

Julie laughed as Ray and Carlos looked confused. She explained their comments before giving the boys a look. “This would be a lot easier if you guys were visible.”

“No.” Carlos jumped in. “Stay invisible. It’s super cool that way. All these floating ornaments and stuff. It’s like a haunted Christmas.”

Ray chuckled. “Wasn’t there a movie about that?”

“Casper’s Haunted Christmas?” Reggie guessed, popping into view beside Carlos. The boy jumped.

“I don’t think that movie exists.” Alex said.

Julie pulled out her phone, typing quickly. “It does. But it didn’t come out until 2000.” She gave Reggie a look. “Are you sure you died in 1995?”

“Yup.” Luke also poofed into view, peering at Julie’s phone. “But Casper came out in ’95. Alex really wanted to see it.”

The blond coloured. “I liked the comics.”

“At least now we can hear most of the conversation.” Ray muttered.

“Comics?” Julie frowned.

“Yeah,” Ray began.

“Yup.” Alex said at the same time.

She held up a hand. “One at a time, guys.”

“Sorry, hon.” He looked around at the empty air. “I didn’t know you were talking.”

“Oh, right.” Alex concentrated and shimmered into view. “My brother had a whole bunch of comics, Archie, Casper....Anyhow, we talked about seeing it if we had the cash. Didn’t happen though.”

“I think it’s on Netflix. We should watch it. You guys still have 25 years of movies to catch up on.” 

Carlos jangled the ornament he was holding. “Is it Christmas or Halloween? If we’re going to be talking about Halloween, we need more ghosts and less talking.”

Reggie grinned and disappeared. Invisible (except to Julie), he picked up some garland and waved it around. “Oooooh. I am the ghost of Christmas past” he moaned.

Julie snorted and Luke rolled his eyes. “Dude, really?”

Despite Reggie’s ghost of Christmas past impressions, Alex and Ray’s comic discussion, and Carlos’s frequent food breaks, the decorating was eventually done. Garland had been hung around the banister and doorways, the tree was lit and dripping with ornaments.

The three ghosts sprawled on the couch now invisible. Decorating and talking all morning had worn them out; they still hadn’t managed to stay visible for more than an hour or so at a time. Julie sat on the opposite couch with Carlos. Ray stood by the old stereo, brought in from the studio. He held up his hands in victory as music finally filled the air. Ray smiled. "This is one of my favourites." He said.

From the couch, three ghostly voices joined in. “Have yourself a merry little Christmas…”

* * *

On Christmas morning, the boys awoke (not that they really slept) to the glittering lights of their small tree. Three ornaments poked out of the top of their stockings. A small pile of presents was clustered around their small tree. In the dim light, they smiled at each other. So much had changed in the twenty-five years they had missed, but one thing hadn’t – Christmas with each other.

Julie woke up to a gift laying on her night table. It was neatly wrapped in green and gold paper. She peeled back the paper to reveal a picture frame. In it, she stood between Luke and Reggie, Alex on Luke’s other side. The four of them were grinning on the Orpheum stage, hands raised before they bowed. A small card rested in the corner. In neat handwriting (not Luke’s) it read: _Julie, Thanks for making us feel alive. Love, Luke, Reggie, & Alex._


End file.
